


Keep on Living

by Krisdaughter_of_Athena



Category: Tron - All Media Types
Genre: Corruption, Cowboy AU, Drinking, Drunkeness, F/M, Heavy Drinking, I'm making this up as I go, Kidnapping, Minor Character Death, Ransom, Wild West AU, bandits, bandits are Robin-hood esque, but Paige kicks his butt, but make it western, corrupt government, mild sexism from Pavel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28498956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krisdaughter_of_Athena/pseuds/Krisdaughter_of_Athena
Summary: "I'll guess I'll keep on living, even if this love's to die for."- "Survivor", by Reba McEntirePaige Butler was assigned by her boss Clu to investigate the happenings in the small western town of Argon. A quaint town owned by her boss couldn't possibly be the target of bandits, could it?As her fate intertwines with the Renegade and his gang, she discovers the secrets hidden underneath the masks of these bandits, and in the shadows of Argon. Will she survive what she learns? Or will she find something worth dying for?Thanks to my pals at the discord for cheering me on! I don't think I would have done this otherwise!
Relationships: Beck & Abel, Beck & Mara & Zed (Tron), Paige & Clu2, Paige & Dyson, Paige & Pavel (Tron), Paige & Tesler (Tron), Ram & Anon & Clu1, Tron & Yori & Beck, Tron/Yori (Tron), eventual Beck/Paige
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12





	1. Into the West

The sun was bright through the windows of the train. Unbidden by clouds, Paige made sure to turn her gaze away from the window, and back to her book. The train was surprisingly quiet at this point in the trip, despite the overall lack of cleanliness that suggested larger crowds. 

At the thought, she resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose and pulls her skirts closer to herself as she crosses her ankles. Never before had her boss sent her into such unruly conditions. 

But Clu thought she was the best one for the job. It was honor enough he trusted her with this mission and gave her a nice fat raise for her trouble. 

So far, though, there had been no trouble. Just...silence. 

If this train ride could be any indication, then tracking down these ‘troublesome’ bandits will be no trouble at all. 

“Now entering Argon station!” The conductor calls. “Next stop, Argo station!”

That’s her stop. She closes her book and returns it to her bag. She slowly rose from her seat, clutching her bag in one hand and umbrella in the other before making her way towards the exit. The train slowed at the station, and the conductor jumped out. 

“Watch your step ma’am.” The conductor offered his arm. She took it with a smile as he helped her off the train. He looked around. “Are you here alone?”

“I took the trip by myself, sir.” She replied. “But I’m not alone.”

“That so? Well, I hope your chaperone arrives soon, ma’am. Argon is not the type of city a lady should be wanderin’ alone.”

She forced a smile and chuckle at that, but before she could respond, a voice called: “Miss Butler?”

She turned at the voice to the thin man. He wore a suit, obviously well kept despite the age. His hair was well-groomed. He slouched, and he folded his hands in front of him, as if ready to wring them. He seemed so out of place on the frontier. Then again, so did she. 

He bowed before taking her hand. “Deputy Pavel Wright at your service.” He kissed her hand. He returned to his slouch after a moment. “I’m here to escort you to the mayor.”

“Ah, a guest of the mayor?” The conductor raised an eyebrow. “Well then, you’re in good hands.” He nodded to both of them and returned to his business. 

The deputy glanced at her umbrella as she opened it. “What are you doing with that? Rain isn’t a common occurrence here.”

She fixed him with a look as she rested the shaft of the umbrella on her shoulder. “Umbrellas have multiple purposes. They can also block out the sun, you know.”

“...Right.” He didn’t offer his hand but began to slink off. She sighed and followed him out of the station. 

“So, CLU sent you here?” The deputy asked as she caught up with him.

She hummed and nodded, taking in the city opening up in front of them. Each person was absorbed in their own work but scrambled faster under the deputy’s glare. Occasionally, one would glance to just beyond the town, to the horizon….

“Our school is in order.”

She blinked and looked back to the deputy. “Pardon?”

“Surely that is why CLU sent you, isn’t it?” Deputy Wright looked at her. “Security management must be coming on a later train.”

“No.” She turned to him fully, gripping her umbrella tight. “I’m security management.”

The deputy gaped at her for a long moment before bursting into laughter. Her eyes narrowed at that. 

“Is there a problem with that, deputy?”

“ _ You _ ?” He tried to cover his laugh with minimal success. “Pardon me, but I really doubt CLU sent a woman to tell us how to run our city. Surely you’re just the mayor’s secretary looking for a boost of ego.”

“Why don’t you take me to him so you can find out yourself?” She found herself restraining the urge to deck him. It must have shown in her eyes because he immediately turned with a nod. 

“Right this way.”

* * *

The two men looked up as the door opened. When they see the deputy, the larger man that was standing slowly removes his hand from his gun. 

“Deputy Wright.” The man behind the desk acknowledged Pavel at the door. “Has CLU’s agent arrived?”

“That she claims, sir,” Pavel responded before bowing out to the side to let Paige see into the room. The man at the desk rose at the sight of her. He must be the mayor. He’s of a slim build, but calculating eyes, proving that he is not simply a desk jockey. “You must be Butler.”

“I am.” He held out his hand and she took it. “Paige Butler, security management.”

“Is that so?” The mayor raised an eyebrow. “Interesting…” He let go of her hand and slowly returned to his desk. 

She held her closed umbrella tight. “Is that a  _ problem _ , sir?”

“No, not at all.” He sat down at his seat and rested his feet on the desk. “If CLU sent you then you must be the best. However, I would like to see a demonstration.” He snapped and Pavel and the larger man came forward.

She glanced between all three of them. “Now?”

The mayor grinned, and it reminded her of the tigers in the zoos back north that had been pacing, waiting to lash out. “ _ Now _ .”

With that, the larger man lunged. Instantly, she ducked and jabbed the but of the umbrella into his gut with all her might. His breath left him in a gasp and he crumpled forward. She kicked him back, watching him hit the wall. 

Pavel’s grip on her shoulder surprised her, but her instincts kicked in. She grabbed his arm and grunted as she threw him over her shoulder. He cried out as he hit the floor. She stepped back as the larger man began to orient himself. He started forward and she glanced down to Pavel. He was slowly gaining his bearings. Too slow. 

She ripped the handle off her umbrella. The blade came out and she grabbed Pavel by the collar. He gasped as she pulled him up with surprising strength. She pulled him to her, resting the blade against his neck. He froze. She pulled the gun from the hem of her skirt and pointed it at the larger man. He froze as well, before slowly raising his hands in defeat. 

From his seat, the mayor clapped. “Well done! That’s the fastest I’ve seen Sheriff Tesler hit the floor.” The sheriff stole a glance at the mayor at that, but the man ignored him. “And I see you’re already on terms with Deputy Wright. You can let him go.”

She looked to him for a long moment, before letting go. Pavel gasped for air and scrambled away. 

“My name is Dyson Foster, and I am the mayor of this town. I am running this town in CLU’s place. Everything that happens here is under my control.” He grinned and pointed to the seat across from him. “Why don’t you have a seat,  _ security manager _ ?” 


	2. The Shopkeeper's Assistant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paige explores the town with the help of the shopkeeper's assistant, only to grow confused at the mystery around the Renegade.

Dyson examined the empty lobby with a huff, before rapping his knuckles on the counter. Paige waited beside him, awkwardly holding her bag and umbrella in one hand, and a file Dyson had given her in her other. 

Finally, a woman with dark hair came around the corner, removing a work belt from her waist. She looked up and gasped. She hurried to the counter, unceremoniously dropping the work belt on the counter next to her. “So sorry! I needed to fix one of the doors; can’t have any loose hinges. How can I help you?”

“This is Miss Paige Butler.” Dyson put a hand on her shoulder. “She is a guest of mine who will be staying here. Give her the best of your services.”

The woman swallowed deeply and Paige took the time to examine her. Her clothes were covered in dust and sweat dotted her brow. Where Paige’s hair was immaculately pinned into place, the innkeeper’s strands were escaping from loose braids. Her blue eyes jumped between Paige and the mayor before finally forcing a smile. 

“Of course! That’ll be room 303.” She grabbed the key before rounding the corner. “Let me grab your bag for you, madam.”

“Oh,” the innkeeper took her bag before she could protest. “...Thank you.”

“Of course!” The innkeeper beamed. 

“She will also have access to my tabs at the shop and the saloon,” Dyson added, already beginning to leave. “Make sure your boss knows that.”

“...Yes sir.”

Dyson gave a curt nod before leaving. Once he was gone, the innkeeper sighed and shook her head. She muttered something that Paige couldn’t decipher before raising her head with a forced grin. “Right this way!”

Paige followed her up the stairs. She seemed to effortlessly heave the bag as they walked. 

“So what brings you to Argon, if you don’t mind me asking?” The innkeeper asked finally at about the second floor. 

She shrugged, before saying: “The mayor is my uncle. He invited me to stay for a while.”

“But not with him?” The innkeeper seemed to fall for the lie, as she didn’t sound surprised at this.

“No, I suppose not.”

“Oh, well.” The innkeeper bit the inside of her cheek to keep from saying more, and was saved by the third floor. “Here we are! 303 is right...here.” She stopped at the second door on the left and inserted the key. A turn and a  _ click, _ and the door eased open. 

“Here you are!” The innkeeper led her in and set the bag and key at the end of the simple bed. In fact, simple was the best word to describe the room. The bed sat in the middle of the room. On the left was an empty desk with an unlit candle and in the right corner a basin with water. “Finest room in all of Argon, wouldn’t you say?”

Paige nodded, inwardly thinking of her warm, comfy bed, and spacious room back home. But she wasn’t home, so she would have to make do. 

“Well,” the innkeeper nodded, backing out of the room. “I’ll leave you be. If you need anything, call for Mara, and I’ll be up.”

“Thank you,” Paige responded distantly. Mara gave a small smile at that before shutting the door.

Once Mara was gone, she turned back and plopped onto her bed with a sigh. The mattress (if she could even call it that) was as hard as a rock. She shifted, hoping to find more comfort with little success.

“Would it kill them to have a softer mattress?” She muttered, deciding to return to her feet. She snagged the file off her bed and opened it as she began to pace. 

The first sheet was a copy of a ‘WANTED’ poster she had happened to notice in passing. Now that she actually had time to examine it, her hand traced the drawing. The bandit didn’t have any notable features that weren’t perhaps hidden beneath his bandana or underneath his hat. The artist gave him an intense gaze, burning into her from the paper. Underneath the image, his alias was printed in bold: THE RENEGADE.

She scoffed and placed the poster on her bed. That didn’t give her much more information, except her ending fee would be the reward for his capture. Now this next page…

She paused in her pacing and held the paper closer to sunlight to examine the scrawled handwriting. Her brow furrowed as she squinted. 

They seemed to be frantically taken notes, she finally realized. She took in the first date of appearance (almost a whole year earlier). They had waited  _ this long _ to call her? 

She shook her head and continued searching the paper. Most of it was dates and locations of attacks. Beyond that, it was too vague…

Frowning, she flipped to find nothing more. She groaned and tossed the paper onto the bed with the file. They gave her almost  _ nothing _ to go on…

_ Fine. I’ll do the heavy lifting myself _ . 

Frown settled in determination, she grabbed her umbrella and her key before hurrying to her bag. She pulled it open and removed a leather notebook with a fountain pen, a newer invention. She clasped it closed and held it close as she shut the door behind her. She locked it with a decisive  _ click _ , tested the knob for extra measure, and nodded her approval before descending the stairs. 

Mara looked up as she reached the first floor. She smiled at Paige’s presence. “You leavin’?”

“For the moment.” She nodded and placed her key on the counter between them. “I’ll be back later today.”

“You got it!” Mara took the key. “Have a good time!”

She nodded again before taking her leave from the inn. 

The mid-day sun was blistering hot, making her thankful for the shade of the umbrella. Now that the day was in full swing, she could see the bustling activity of the small town. It was by no means comparable to her home city, but the activity was enough to make her hesitate at the entrance of the inn. 

_ This isn’t a big deal. You’ve dealt with worse. Just go. _

Nodding to herself, she took a deep breath and stepped into the street. She gasped as someone zipped by her on a horse. Someone shouldered her on her left and she spun back around. The deep breath she had taken now hitched and she lifted her skirt to run. She sprinted across the street, no longer caring which direction she took. She reached for the door looming in front of her, not caring for its destination. She wrenched it open and hurried inside, slamming it behind her. 

The street activity now silenced, she took a deep breath and slumped against the door. She hurriedly closed her umbrella (they’re bad luck indoors, you know) when a soft pair of footsteps stopped in front of her. 

“Are you all right, ma’am?” She gasped and looked up, instantly meeting soft brown eyes. The sight made her shoulders slump, and the man put a hand on her shoulder. “You look all shook up. Come sit down.”

He slowly led her to a seat. She sat down with a tired sigh, and the man crossed to the counter. Moments later, he returned with a glass of water. “Here.”

She swallowed deeply and accepted the drink. “Thank you.” 

“Of course, ma’am.” The man gave a small smile. “This happens to be the busiest time of the day. Getting across the road can be an adventure all in itself.”

She gave a huff of a laugh at that. She took a sip of water, examining the man over the edge of the glass. His hair was unruly, surely a feat to be tamed, but oddly charming. His hands were calloused and arms built with muscle, detailing a life of work. He was wearing an apron over his clothes, indicating that he must be the shopkeeper. His eyes were still watching her, now seeming to slowly pick her apart. The thoughts instinctively made her reach for her notebook, only to not find it on her lap. She gasped and lowered her glass to look around. 

“Is something wrong?”

“I-I had a notebook, and now I can’t find it. I must have dropped it somewhere between here and the inn!”

The shopkeeper looked around. After a moment, he rose and approached the door where he then bent down and picked it up. He held it up for her to see the leather notebook. “Is this it?”

“Yes!” The man smiled at her relief. “Yes, thank you! Can you bring it here?”

“Yes ma’am.” He glanced down at the notebook, which turned into a long look as he slowly approached her. “You know,” he said finally, “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.” He held the journal out to her, finally looking at her again. “You new here?”

The sudden intensity in his furrowed brow made her hesitate. She took it after a moment and nodded. “Yes...I am.”

“Oh.”

She nodded and looked down at the notebook. Seeing it, it reminded her of her mission...

“Beck!” The shopkeeper looked up as an older man came from the back of the shop. “You better not be slackin’ off in here!”

“No sir!” He straightened and turned the older man. “Just helpin’ this woman out.” 

The older man’s gaze roved to her and she tried not to squirm under his heavy gaze. He’s already making his way across the shop to her. When he reached her, he held out his hand. “Good afternoon, ma’am. My name is Abel and I am the owner of this shop. May I have your name?”

His voice was genuine, trusting. It gave her enough relief to rest her hand in his. “Paige, sir. It’s wonderful to meet you.”

“As to you.” Abel greeted cordially. “I hope my assistant hasn’t been bothering you.”

“No sir, he’s been very kind. I’m afraid I got twisted up in the traffic outside so he helped me calm myself. He’s quite a gentleman actually.”

The man,  _ Beck _ , blushed and turned to stare at a wall to her right but Abel gave an approving nod. “Well  _ good _ . Not that he has made sure you are fine and well…” He straightened and turned his attention to Beck. “I need you to take the groceries to the church. It’s been a couple days, and no doubt they’re running low. Might as well take the other deliveries while you’re at it.”

“Yes, sir!” Beck hurried off to the back. Abel and Paige both watched him go, clattering following him along. 

“So,” Abel turned back to her, “you new here?”

“Yes sir, I am.” She paused for a moment before clearing her throat. “Actually, I should be honest. I am new here, but I’m not here on vacation. I have a job to do.”

“Oh?” Able raised an eyebrow at that, lowering himself into a seat across from her.

“I have some questions I would like to ask you, as well as everyone else in town.”

He gestured for her to continue. She took a deep breath and opened her notebook. 

“What do you know of the bandit known as the Renegade?”

Abel was silent. She glanced up to see him watching her intently. After a moment, he straightened with a sigh. “I can’t say I know much. I’m sure you’ll get the same answers from everyone else you ask.”

“It’s still important to me.” She pressed. “I like to investigate these things myself. Helps me build a profile.”

He nodded thoughtfully. He glanced to the back doorway, and Paige turned to follow his gaze. 

“I don’t like to talk about it in front of Beck.” He hissed, catching her attention once more. She turned back to him at that. “He’s...very sensitive about the topic. The Renegade showed up not long after Clu’s men took over the town. Beck’s best friend, my other assistant, Bodhi...he was the first civilian killed. Denied Tesler entrance to the store. Shot on sight. I hadn’t been there at the time but Beck...he saw it all happen.”

“I’m...sorry.”

Abel nodded, resting his chin on his folded hands. “I thought I lost him for a while, too. He had drifted away, stopped showing up to work, kept staring off into the desert like he could walk away from everything and wander into the nothing…” He sighed. “But, he’s back with me. He’s beginning to recover. I’m just afraid that bringing up this nasty business with him will cause him to take a step back.”

“...I understand.” She jotted a few quick notes about that in her notebook. “Is there anything else you know about the Renegade?”

“Yes.” He sniffed and straightened. “One thing you will hear a lot is that some of the citizens here think he’s Tron.”

“Tron?” The name rings a bell… 

“He was the last sheriff of this town. A damn good one, too. One night, just nights before Clu’s men officially arrived, Tron had been patrolling the city when a gunfight broke out. When everyone made it to the scene, all that was left was blood and some unidentifiable bodies. Tron was nowhere to be found. Some believe he was killed, but others believe that Tron hasn’t given up on us yet.” Abel looked as if he wanted to say more, but instead said: “That’s all.” 

“Okay.” She wrote that down before clasping her notebook shut. “Thank you.” She rose from her seat. “I must get going now. Lots of people to see.”

“Why don’t you go with Beck?” Able asked as he rose. “He could give you a tour, and he has to make some deliveries so he won’t be around to listen in.” Before she could respond, he turned to the back of the shop. “Beck!”

Beck’s footfalls echoed as he reappeared in the doorway. “Yes sir?”

“Why don’t you take Miss Butler with you? She would like a tour of the town.”

“Are you sure, sir?”

Abel waved him off. “Go. Take your time with it. You deserve it.”

Beck grinned, and Paige couldn’t help but think he wouldn’t if he knew why she was going with him. “Thank you, sir!”

Abel nodded and returned to the counter at the front of the store. Beck cleared his throat and held his hand out. “Um, if you’d like to follow me, ma’am. The wagon is in the back.”

“Oh,” she took his hand. “Thank you.” 

He nodded with a small smile and led her through the back storage. It seemed to be barely a glance before she was blinking in the bright sun. 

“Right this way, ma’am.” Beck was still holding her hand as he led her to the wagon. He waited next to her as she hoisted herself up. Once she was settled, he rounded to the other side. As she opened her umbrella, he pulled himself into the seat next to her with a grin. “You ready?”

She gave a small smile at his enthusiasm, which only fueled him to grin. 

“Let’s go!”

* * *

“Here we are.”

Paige’s laughter faded easily as they slowed to a stop at their final destination. The wagon was emptier and her notebook filled with information and her mind with fond memories still making her smile. Now, though, she felt her smile fading as she gazed at the church. 

Her tour had given her a multitude of perspectives. Some considered the Renegade a hero, others (specifically Beck’s friend, Zed) considered him an outlaw. But nobody seemed eager to explain why. The view of the church would perhaps be a solid idea of that why, especially if they condemn the Renegade. However, she couldn’t be sure. It had been years since she had stepped into a church herself. 

“Miss Butler?” She hummed and glanced down to see Beck was waiting for her on the ground. He held out his hand out to her, but the expression on his face was more hesitant. “You okay?”

She nodded instantly and took his hand. He gently helped her off the wagon. As soon as she was steady, he let go of her hand, moving instead to run a hand through his hair. “This is our last stop. I’ll go in with you to let the reverend know I’m here.” 

“Thank you.” She couldn’t hide the relief in her voice at that, but Beck made no comment of it. Rather, he ran his hands down his pants before entering the church. Paige hesitated for a moment, before catching up with him. 

The inside was small and dim. Most of the room was taken up with rows of old wooden pews, lined from the entrance to the near front of the building. There, a small set of steps lead to a wooden pulpit which was currently unoccupied. 

“Reverend Dumont?” Beck’s voice echoed into the church. A head popped up in the front pew, and in moments an elderly man was standing to his feet. He wore black from head to toe, minus a small peak to a white shirt beneath his dark coat. He leaned heavily into a cane as he approached. 

“My boy!” The preacher smiled from beneath a trimmed beard with bright eyes. “Is it that time already?”

“Yes sir, I have the groceries, nice and fresh. Abel sends his regards as well.”

“Ah yes yes.” Dumont agreed as he approached the boy. “I will pass my thanks come Sunday. The orphans and the needy will have their fill, yes?”

“Yes sir.”

Dumont sighed with a small smile. “God always provides, whether it be through the sparrows or my dear friend.”

Paige’s brow furrowed at that.  _ There are no sparrows in the desert.  _

Beck forced a grin at that as if he had heard it before. He chuckled. “Not the sparrows this time, Reverend.” 

“Oh, but they will be back.” Dumont nodded sagely as if he knew something the two didn’t. “‘Why should we worry, for the Lord will provide through the sparrows.’ Well...that’s not actual scripture, but scripture  _ does  _ say that the Lord provides for the sparrows, and the Lord provides for us in multiple ways. So why not by the sparrows?”

Beck nodded as if that made sense and Dumont continued. “The Lord will use them to provide in droughts, famines, and an upcoming raise in taxes. However, I also thank the Lord every day for Abel and his generosity.” He raised an eyebrow at Beck, then finally noticed Paige. “Is this your wife, my dear boy? Surely the time hasn’t passed that quickly.”

Beck sputtered, and Paige felt herself blush bright red. “N-no, Reverend. I have not even courted anyone. Uh,” He cleared his throat and put a hand on Paige’s shoulder. “This is Miss Paige Butler. She’s visiting Argon and wanted a tour of the town.”

The mischievous twinkle at their reaction dimmed as Dumont took her hand and shook it. “Wonderful to meet you, Miss Butler. I am Reverend Dumont, and I welcome you into our congregation as long as you are here.”

“Oh...thank you. It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

His eyes lift at that and he tosses his gaze to Beck. “Why don’t you grab the food, my dear boy? Miss Butler and I can sit and have a chat.” Beck nodded and hurried out as quick as he could. 

“This way, my dear,” Dumont said as he put a hand on Paige’s shoulder and gently led her to the nearest pew. She sat down and Dumont grunted softly as he lowered himself. “There,” He looked up to her finally, “now, how would you describe your relationship to the Lord?”

“Sir,” she cut him off before he could get started. “I’m going to be honest. I am not here to talk about my salvation or church. I’m here in Argon on a mission, and I was wondering if I could ask you a couple of questions.” 

The reverend’s gaze darkened and sobered but he straightened. “Of course. Ask away.”

She opened her notebook and tried to intently stare at that instead of the now intense gaze of the (possibly senile) old man. She cleared her throat. “What do you know about the Renegade?”

“Hm? The Renegade?” Dumont’s brow furrowed at that. “Name does not ring a bell.” 

She did look up at that and fought hard to keep her jaw from dropping. “You haven’t heard of him? Bandit, dark suit, white bandanna covering his face? Dark hat with white beading?”

“Oh, you’re talking about Sheriff Tron.”

Her brow furrowed and she slowly shook her head. “But it’s not Tron...is it?”

“It might be. He wears the Sheriff’s clothes. Why would someone take the sheriff’s clothes?”

She sighed and scribbled that down. “Okay, what about the dates of robbery? For example, on January 18th, the Renegade reportedly chased down a train and broke in.” 

“And saved the innkeeper, the horse manager, and many others from possible death at the hands of the mayor,” Dumont responded sagely. 

“...Nobody...nobody mentioned that before. Why wouldn’t have they said that?”

“Let me say this.” He said simply. “This Renegade may not be the outlaw the mayor and the sheriff paint him to be. Perhaps take a look at his crimes. Follow the money trail.”

“Here we go.” Beck sighed as he set the final box down. He wiped his brow with his sleeve. “All done. You two have a good talk?”

“We did.” Dumont slowly began to stand. Paige hurriedly shut her notebook and rose as well. “I have gotten a good idea of this young woman. She has a pure heart and a strong soul. I expect her to take heed to my words.” He looked her dead in the eyes at that. “And I hope to see you both Sunday.” 

Paige nodded and met Beck at the entrance. He said something about the inn and led her out, but she wasn’t listening.

_ Follow the money trail...but where could it lead?  _

_ Did the Renegade have a secret fortune? _

_ Did he fund something? _

She didn’t know, and she couldn’t be sure. These questions turned in her head throughout the day, as she entered the inn once more. They kept her up as she watched the moon through her window. 

_ None of that makes sense. Perhaps the old man is too senile to be reliable. After all, he kept talking about sparrows… _

Her eyes shoot open at the clattering of hoofs. She pulled back the sheets and hurried to the window. The moon was bright, but the streets were empty. She stared for a moment more, eyes narrowing as if commanding something to appear. When nothing does, she sighed and returned to her bed for the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter won't have a lot of plot, but it's from Beck's POV so it's something new!
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed!


	3. An Interlude for Beck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and comments! I didn't expect so many people to enjoy a Cowboy AU of Tron, but I'm glad y'all do. 
> 
> This one is Beck-centered and is very introspective/flashbacky. Hope y'all enjoy!

The town has fallen asleep around him but Beck can’t find such a reprieve. He stared at the bright moon through the window of the small room. This was a sight he had taken in multiple times before. And just like countless times previous, his mind traveled elsewhere, but for the first time, it traveled to a girl. 

When Paige Butler had stumbled into the shop just earlier that day and her eyes met his as he rushed to help her, his heart stopped suddenly in his chest. He had then prayed then it didn’t show on his face, hoping to keep his cool in front of this  _ beautiful  _ woman. It must have been just moments, but he felt as if he had gotten lost in the warmth of her own sun within her eyes…

If this were a different world, he would have asked her to dinner. Engaged her in conversation. Maybe even gotten a kiss and crawled into bed with a smile on his face. 

But of course with his luck, things got...complicated.

_ “I’m new here, but I’m not on vacation. I have a job to do.” _

_ The statement made Beck stop in his tracks in the back of the shop.  _

_“Oh?”_ _He heard Able ask and a chair scoot across the floor._

_ “I have some questions I would like to ask you, as well as everyone else in town.” Slowly Beck set down the crate he had been holding. He crept towards the doorway to the front of the store as she continued. “What do you know of the bandit known as the Renegade?” _

_ He tensed at the question, breath catching in his lungs as his thoughts raced.  _

_ Abel remained quiet for a long moment, and Beck took a deep breath before leaning just enough to see the lady holding her notebook open and Able staring at her. He had forgotten that Able had such a strong facade as he said: “I can’t say I know much. I’m sure you’ll get the same answers from everyone else you ask.” _

_ Beck couldn’t see the woman’s face, but perhaps she wasn’t convinced. “It’s still important to me. I like to investigate these things myself. Helps me build a profile.” _

Why would she need to know that? Surely she wasn’t...

_ As the realization sunk in, Able glanced up at the doorway. His eyes narrowed in a way that spoke volumes. Miss Butler began to turn and he ducked back behind the wall with a small gasp.  _

“ _ I don’t like to talk about it in front of Beck _ .”  _ Able was still talking but Beck barely could bring himself to listen. He sunk down to the floor as his boss continued.  _ “ _ He’s...very sensitive about the topic. The Renegade showed up not long after Clu’s men took over the town. Beck’s best friend, my other assistant, Bodhi...he was the first civilian killed. Denied Tesler entrance to the store. Shot on sight. I hadn’t been there at the time but Beck...he saw it all happen.” _

No no no!  _ Beck clenched his eyes shut, trying to block everything out. She worked for Clu! That’s why she was here! _

_ He had developed a crush on the enemy... _

_ “I thought I lost him for a while, too. He had drifted away, stopped showing up to work, kept staring off into the desert like he could walk away from everything and wander into the nothing…” _

_ Beck couldn’t bring himself to listen anymore. He needed a plan. He pushed himself to his feet and returned to the crate he had abandoned, mind still racing.  _

When Beck returned to the present, the moon was high in the sky and Able’s soft snores accompanied the silence. 

It’s time. 

He sighed softly and slipped out of his bed. Thankfully, the floor didn’t creak beneath him as he crept to the chest at the end of the bed. He knelt next to the chest and pulled the necklace off his neck. His thumb habitually rubbed the shape of the key on the chain. Both the chest and the key were a surprise from Able. His boss may not approve of his...activities outside of work, but God knew that his surrogate father didn’t want to see him fall into the hands of the Sheriff. Not after what happened to Bodhi…

A gunshot rang and Beck flinched, the key clattering to the floor. He ignored it and ran to the window, gasping for the fresh night air. Below, the street was empty, but it couldn’t be…

“Beck?” A hand touched his back and he flinched again with a small gasp. He whipped around to see Able hold up his hands to him. “Easy son…”

“A-able.” He couldn’t fight to keep the stutter out of his voice. “G-gunshot…”

Able slowly shook his head. He reached out and cupped Beck’s face between his hands. “No, Beck. There was no gunshot. Everything’s okay.”

“But...but…”

“Come sit down.” Beck didn’t protest as Able led him to the latter’s bed and eased him to sit. Beck crumpled into his hands and Able’s hand began to rub in large circles across his back. “It’s okay...it wasn’t real.”

“It  _ was _ .” Beck insisted. “It was so loud and so real…”

“It was real.” Able agreed, “But not tonight.”

The silence continued between them until Beck’s breathing settled. Once his shoulders slumped, Able pulled him up against him. Beck’s head leaned into his shoulder. 

“You were thinking about him again, weren’t you?” Able didn’t need Beck’s nod for confirmation, but still sighed when he did. “I’m sorry, Beck. That must have been brought on by the visit earlier today. I was hoping you hadn’t heard that.”

Beck shrugged. “How was I supposed to know she’s a spy?”

“You couldn’t have,” Able said. “She didn’t seem like one.”

Beck hummed to that. Able glanced across the room and noticed the forgotten key gleaming in the moonlight. “You don’t have to go tonight.” He said finally. 

“They’re expecting me,” Beck murmured. 

“They could handle it without you just for one night. Allow you to get some rest.” 

He shook his head, and slowly sat up. “I need to go.”

Able sighed but didn’t argue. He stood as Beck retrieved the key and unlocked the chest. He said nothing as his assistant pulled out the familiar clothing and slowly moved to stand in front of the window as he changed. “Are you going to tell them about Paige?”

Beck paused in pulling on his boots. He stared at them for a long moment, before nodding. “I should. They’ll think it’s good news.”

Able made a small sound at that which Beck ignored as he pulled the necklace back over his head and slipped the key below his shirt. “Means we got Clu’s attention, that the end is near.” 

“But at what cost will that end come?” 

Beck didn’t have an answer to that and instead delegated to grab his bandanna and his hat. He turned to Able, paused, and then closed the distance to embrace his father. Able leaned into the hug but didn’t hold on when Beck let go. He sighed and wearily looked up at his son. “Just please...be careful. I don’t know if I can save you again.” 

“I’ll be careful.” He promised. “I’ll be back before dawn.” With that, he turned and headed down the stairs, aware of Able’s gaze following him out of sight. 

The gunshot rang out again, and Beck paused at the bottom of the stairs. His hand pressed into the side of the wall as he squeezed his eyes shut. It’s not real, it’s  _ not real… _

_ The roads had been eerily silent and tense from the moment the strangers had rolled into town. They came bearing guns, and leading them in was a broad-shouldered man. His glare had been piercing as he led the man on the wagon in. Nobody had been able to take their eyes off the familiar star on his chest, faintly speckled with familiar blood… _

_ They had taken Flynn’s house and pulled down Argon’s flag from the top. Instead, a new, unfamiliar flag had arisen, the harsh yellow soring the eyes of the town. The man on the wagon, who caused ripples of shock through the town, took the house for himself. The old sheriff’s deputy named himself mayor and the stocky imposter, apparently named Tesler, his sheriff.  _

_ So much had been changing so fast, but the city sat in hushed whispers. At least the statue of their founder was still intact… _

_ Everything snapped within the second day.  _

_ Bodhi had been the first to notice. Able had left the two of them in charge while meeting with Reverend Dumont over affairs for the needy. Beck was cleaning the back room, and Bodhi was running the front counter.  _

_ “What the hell!?” _

_ Beck stopped sweeping and peeked his head in to see Bodhi staring out the window, fists clenched on the sill.  _

_ “...What?”  _

_ “They’re taking down Flynn’s statue!” _

_ The broom clattered from his hands at that. Bodhi pulled off his apron and wadded it up as he threw it to the side. Beck hurried to catch up with him as he slammed the door open with a  _ BANG _.  _

_ People were already gathering outside of their homes and businesses. All eyes were fixed on the men in the square. Ropes bound the statue of Flynn, the town founder and mayor, and the men were tugging with all their might.  _

_ “What’s going on?” Beck asked Mara, who had managed to cross the street. She glanced up to him but said nothing as everyone’s attention was diverted.  _

_ “HEY!” Bodhi stormed down from the shop, quickly approaching the men. They paused as the statue began to waver, turning to him. “Leave that alone!” _

_ “This statue is a lie and an eyesore.” One of the men said tonelessly. “Our orders are to remove it, and replace it with the truth.” _

_ “What?” Bodhi wrinkled his nose. “Flynn was the founder and mayor!” _

_ “But a corrupt man.” Everyone turned as Dyson slowly approached. The new sheriff towered behind him. “You may not have realized it, boy, but Flynn didn’t care about any of you. And Tron...well, in his life, he was just as misguided.” _

_ “Tron’s not dead!” Bodhi spat.  _

_ “If he were here…” Beck muttered, fists clenching at his side.  _

_ Zed snapped him a glare. “You mean if he was  _ alive. _ ” _

_ “Zed-” _

_ Dyson laughed, cutting off the whispers racing through the crowd. “And how would you know? You didn’t watch him die. Clu saved all of you from a fate worse than death, which is why he has taken this town under his ownership.” He gave a small nod to the men at that. “Continue at all costs.” _

_ The men nodded and picked up the ropes. Bodhi grabbed two of the ropes, trying to wrench them out of their grip. “You’re lying! All of you! Leave us alone-!”  _

_ The backhand sent Bodhi flying. Everyone gasped, and Beck began to inch out of the crowd.  _

_ Dyson towered over Bodhi. “You don’t listen,  _ boy. _ Stop clinging to those lies. You better learn fast what happens to unruly criminals, because you’re toein’ the line.”  _

_ Protests rose from the crowd.  _

_ “Leave him alone!”  _

_ “He’s just a boy!” _

_ Dyson ignored them all and began to walk back to Flynn’s house. Bodhi grunted as he wiped the blood from his lip. Panting hard, he pushed himself to his feet, stumbling after Dyson. “You can’t scare us-!” _

_ Dyson whipped around and the gunshot cracked. The air stole from Beck’s lungs with a gasp as Bodhi’s head snapped back at an unnatural angle, blood flying from the center of his forehead.  _

_ “BODHI!” _

_ Bodhi crumpled lifelessly. Heart in his throat, Beck shoved his way through the crowd. Nobody stopped him as he ran towards Bodhi’s still body, heart still crawling up. He fell to his knees beside him, reaching for his face. His hands shook as Bodhi remained still, the shocked expression frozen on his face as he stared up at the sky.  _

_ “B-bodhi...bodhi  _ please _!” _

_ His pleas collapsed into tears and desperate, unintelligible sobs. He didn’t hear the statue of Flynn fall, and barely noticed it was replaced with a different statue.  _

_ “He should have known better.” Beck did look up at that to see Dyson looking down at him. The pity on his face was shallow, more mocking. “He got what was coming to him.” _

_ The tears burned on his cheeks as his sobs turned to seethes and he lunged. “You  _ bastard!  _ I’ll kill you-!” _ _  
_ __ _ Suddenly Zed was in his path. He managed to block Beck and push him back as other townspeople ran up from the crowd with mixed calls and warnings. Dyson had the gun out again, this time aimed at Beck. His expression had barely changed. “Wanna be next?” _

_ Zed dug his feet into the ground. Someone grabbed Beck’s shoulder, pulling him back. Dyson smirked at that and lowered his gun, before turning away.  _

_ Nobody let go of Beck until the mayor was long out of sight. Hands cautiously released him, afraid he would bolt. Instead, he sunk back down, now silent. Someone set their hand on his shoulder, speaking soothing words but he can’t hear them. He can’t bring his eyes down to his friend’s body, staring straight ahead. And above him, the sun pierced the crowd, the statue of Clu, and Flynn’s house beyond… _

Beck gasped as his eyes snapped back open. He was no longer in the hot town square, but alone in the backroom of the shop. He took a long, shaky breath as awareness flooded back in. 

_ That was long ago. _

_ The past can’t hurt me anymore. _

The words rang like a comforting lie, but he accepted it anyway as he tugged on his hat. Once it covered his hair, he pulled up the white bandanna and tied it around his face. It rested comfortably on his nose as he straightened, feeling stronger and bolder than just moments before. His footsteps rang with confidence against the wooden floor as he slipped out.

One of the horses from the wagon was feeding quietly. He ran a gentle hand across their mane and they barely acknowledged his presence, accustomed to the suit. The Renegade quickly attached the saddle and the reigns before hoisting himself up. He glanced back up to the shop once, where he imagined Able was restlessly trying to sleep again. He shook away the creeping memories, flicked the reigns once, and took off into the night. 

* * *

_ Beck was tipsy, tiptoeing near drunk.  _

_ It wasn’t the first time this week he found himself like this. Gem and Zuse must have told Able they would look after him because Zuse was uncharacteristically quiet every time he showed up and Gem or one of her girls would coax him to his feet and walk him back to the shop when he was drunk beyond comprehension. The morning after, Able would say nothing. With his looks, he didn’t need to.  _

Maybe he understood that the drinking made the pain hurt less _ , he thought bitterly as he takes another swig. For the moment, he could forget all the looks of pity, that his best friend was  _ dead _ , and he could forget about the stone statue in the middle of the square… _

_ Tonight, though, he couldn’t seem to forget any of it, especially the last bit. The statue kept sticking out like a sore thumb in his blurry gaze, making his blood warm faster than any alcohol could do.  _

_ He slammed his drink down. Damn that statue! Every time he looked at it, he could only think of Bodhi’s body sprawled out on the dirt. And there was nothing he could do about it… _

_ …Unless… _

_ And that’s when Beck got a very drunk, very half-baked idea.  _

* * *

_ Slipping past the guards and climbing up the side of the house was almost too easy.  _

_ He paused for a deep breath, body reminding him that he was still not sober. Oh well, too late to turn back now.  _

_ Once his breathing settled, he crawled across the roof on his hands and knees, target just within sight and nearing. It took a couple of fumbled tries to grab the edge of the flag, but once he did, he held it tight. Carefully, he grabbed his knife off his belt and guided the blade down the flag. It seamlessly cut through the fabric and Beck couldn’t help but grin under his bandanna as he returned his knife to his sheath and tucked the flag into his belt.  _

_ Now for the harder part.  _

_ He slowly climbed back down the side of the house. When a guard turned to look in the opposite direction, he bolted off the property, narrowing his gaze at his next target.  _

_ The blacksmiths were always lazy about putting away their tools after a long day. Beck was counting on that. Therefore, it was easy enough to grab the nearest sledgehammer. He grunted as he lifted it, and then slowly crept towards the center of the square. It was a miracle he hadn’t been noticed yet, he thought as he lifted the sledgehammer high.  _

_ CLANG! _

_ All the guards jumped from their daze as a part of Clu’s ear flew off. Taking another deep breath, he swung with all his might. That was all it took for the rest of his head to fly away.  _

_ “HEY!” He looked up to see the guards running towards him. He let the hammer clatter to the ground and took off.  _

_ “STOP HIM!” He heard a familiar voice shout, and a second idea popped into his brain. He redirected his course towards the stable, where Zed had left a lamp burning. He climbed the fence and hoisted himself onto the nearest horse. One urge to the flank was enough to rear the horse back enough to bring down a portion of the fence. As the horse took off, he guided it around the sharp turn of the fence to grab the lantern. Guards lept out of the way as Beck nearly trampled them on a path back towards Dyson’s house.  _

_ The man was standing on the porch, still in his night clothing. Beck stopped the horse and pulled the flag from his belt. It didn’t take long for the flag to catch flame next to the lantern, and he held the flag high, relishing in the flame-reflected fear in the mayor’s eyes. It was a mere moment, though, as Beck then turned his attention upward. With a grunt, he launched the lantern as hard as he could. The glass in the window shattered, and within moments, the room was in flames and quickly spreading.  _

_ “MY HOUSE!” Dyson screeched, and Beck didn’t stick around. He let the flag drop as he fled, hearing Dyson shout just moments later: “AFTER HIM!” _

_ “HYAH!” Beck commanded in a deep voice, digging his heels into the horse’s sides. The horse obeyed and took off, both leaving the burning house and the destroyed statue far behind them.  _

_ For some time, the clattering of hooves followed them. Beck refused to look back, refused to slow down or stick to the roads. In fact, he didn’t slow until the sound was long gone. By then both Beck and his horse were panting as they slowed to a stop.  _

_ “ _ God. _ ” Beck gasped out as he pulled the bandanna down, stomach churning. He stole a glance back to find the skyline was empty, save for a distant column of smoke. “Oh my god.” _

_ He leaned into the horse’s mane before gently patting their neck. “We did it.” He breathed. _

_ ….Now what?  _

_ He should probably wait for the pressure to back off again. No doubt they’d be looking for him for a while, but Able would kill him if he’s not home before dawn, especially if he  _ knew _ what Beck had done... _

_ He paused at the sound of hooves. The contents of his stomach near crawling up his throat, he slowly turned to look back. On the horizon, a horse rode in shadow, urged by their rider.  _

_ “Damn it!” They must have caught up to him! If they catch him, God knows he’ll end up just like Bodhi. He patted his horse’s side before digging his boots in as he pulled his bandanna back up. His horse broke into a gallop.  _

_ He stole a second glance back to see the rider catching up. He gritted his teeth as his horse panted beneath him. They wouldn’t make it much farther, not unless he could outsmart them. Times like this made him wish he had thought to grab a gun. He wouldn’t shoot to kill, but at least to scare them off. For now, he’ll just have to make do.  _

_ There’s a hill up ahead. If he can make it over, he could find somewhere to put himself out of sight, knock them off their horse… _

__ _ BANG! _

_ He gasped and ducked. His horse roared in fear, and he managed a quick look in the direction of the gunshot, barely clinging on as his horse jerked him in a different direction.  _

__ Another one!?!

_ Sure enough, a second rider was approaching fast from the left, well now behind him. The first rider was now coming up on his right.  _

_ Shit shit shit! He felt himself slipping on the horse’s bare back and he clung to their neck. He had to regain control.  _

_ That fell apart as the first rider overtook him, and turned themselves to a sudden stop in front of him. His horse reared back with another trumpeting roar. He couldn’t help his scream as he scrabbled for a handhold too late. His back hit the ground with a grunt and his horse took off into the night.  _

_ He groaned as his back ached. Memory returned quickly, and he scrambled to his feet as both riders slipped off their horses, beginning to circle him like vultures. His breath was catching in his lungs as his fingers fumbled for his knife. He clutched it tight as the second rider, now obviously taller, pulled out a gun and straightened. He whipped around to the first rider, who was much smaller than the second. They did not pull out a weapon.  _

__ Their mistake _ , he thought as he turned and sprinted towards them with a shout.  _

_ What he didn’t expect was for them to simply sidestep and stick out their foot. He stumbled as he tripped, and he turned back without thinking. A flash of pain snapped in his hand, and he dropped the knife with a cry. He looked down to the welt on his hand, then back up to the whip now trailing the first rider as they prowled closer. He glanced to his knife, but his gaze was pulled back by the threatening  _ snap _ of the whip. This gave the second rider time to catch up. They snatched the knife off the ground and held it in a battle-ready grip, gun still aimed at Beck.  _

_ They were backing him into a corner, he quickly realized. His back was approaching a large rock as they backed him in. The second rider cocked the gun with a  _ click _.  _

Shit _.  _

_ He bolted without thinking, slipping between the small space between the rock and the second rider. Too stunned to react, they let him pass as he sprinted. If he could make it away, he would be lucky to make it back home-! _

_ That thought quickly left as the familiar sound of hooves caught up to him. Before he could think of another plan, the familiar  _ snap _ caught him in the back of the leg, making it collapse beneath him. About that same time, a thick rope passed over his head. He gasped as it tightened around his midriff, pulling his arms in. He landed face first with a groan. The horses came to a stop. After a moment, the rope pulled tighter. He grunted at that, and as gloved hand pushed him up. He found himself looking up at the second rider. Their masked expression betrayed nothing as they lifted their gun. Beck refused to close his eyes, he won’t back away as they kill him… _

_ The rider flipped their hold from the handle to the barrel. With the momentum, they swung their arm back. The blow to the side of his head is strong enough to make his vision go dark as he blacked out.  _

* * *

__ Beck could see the small fire from his distance. He and his horse slow as a familiar man rose from his post. He slipped off his horse and led it the rest of the way. 

“You made it,” Tron said once Beck was close enough. “I thought at this point you weren’t going to.” 

“Tron.” Yori chastised as she approached from the fire. “You knew he was coming.”

“Yeah.” Beck agreed, tying his horse up next to the others. “Just got out late.”

Yori’s brow furrowed at that. “Are you doing okay?”

He shrugged that off and approached the fire. She shot a look to Tron at that, who shrugged cluelessly. 

“How much money do we have left?” Beck asked, desperate to change the subject as he stared at the fire.

“Not much,” Tron commented, approaching the fire. “Maybe enough for one more round. We need to think bigger than train robberies. They’re putting up their guard.”

Beck sighed and pushed down his bandanna from his face. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “ ‘Course.”

“What is it?” Yori asked as she came up to the fire, the opposite side of Beck from Tron. “Something’s bothering you about this. What is it?”

Beck sighed again. “Clu’s catching on. He’s sent a spy. I found out about her quickly enough, but she’s looking for the Renegade.”

Tron stiffened beside him. “How much does she know?” 

“Not much. She’s been asking citizens, and most won’t tell her anything. I don’t even think she’s realized there are three of us. But she’s too damn smart. She’ll catch on.”

Tron grunted at that. Beck stole a glance to see Tron’s shaking hand clench into a fist, and his leg lock. Luckily, Yori noticed, too. 

“Tron, sit down.” He looked at her at that, but she was already grabbing his arm and leading him to sit down. He couldn’t hold back the groan as he sat but held up his hand as the others approached. 

“I’ll be fine.” His pinched voice indicated the opposite, but he still managed to look up at Beck. Even with his eyepatch, Beck could see the pain his elder was desperately trying to hide. “We need to make a plan. No doubt the town is running low again.” 

“Yeah.” Beck agreed, stealing a glance at Yori. She was silent but nodded after a long moment. Her fists were clenched at her sides, but for a different reason than pain. “No doubt they’re due for a tax raise soon.” 

“Then it’s time we hit the source.” Tron decided. 

Yori did look up at that, brow furrowed. “...The bank? Are you sure we’re ready for that?”

“We have no choice. Clu’s closing in. If we can get into the reserve, we could take it all down.”

“Tron’s right.” Beck agreed. “If we can clear the reserve and split it between the citizens, that’ll give them enough leverage over Clu’s lackeys. They would have enough power to help us take back the town.”

“Which has been the plan all along.” Tron reminded Yori. She still frowned at that. 

“And if we fail? That’s a shot we won’t get again.”

“We won’t fail,” Beck promised her. 

After a moment, she nodded. “Fine. We’ll need a plan and a damn good one.”

“Agreed,” Tron said. After a moment, he slowly pushed himself to his feet, waving off Yori when she hurried to his help. “But first, let’s get this next round out.” 

The other two nodded as Tron retrieved his hat. Beck pulled up his bandanna again and Yori tucked her underneath her hat before pulling on her bandanna. Beck stomped out the fire as the other two began to pack the money into saddlebags like clockwork. He joined them as they finished up and climbed onto their horses. The three exchanged a silent look before turning back towards the town.

* * *

_ He came to with a groan. It was dark and he could feel himself shivering. He squinted as he took in his surroundings. He tried to move his hands to warm, only for his arms to fail to budge.  _

__ _ “Huh…?” His head was pounding, but he managed to look down. His eyes finally focused enough for him to see the thick rope tied around his arms and midriff. “What…?” _

__ _ “You know,” A low, rough voice started, and Beck looked up with a gasp. He couldn’t see anyone in the dark, which made his heart pound faster. “After all the trouble you gave us, I expected someone else. Someone...far better.” _

_ Beck began to hurriedly search for his hat, which was no longer blocking the stars for him, and for his bandanna.  _

_ “Looking for these?” A second, feminine voice asked and he looked up to see the first rider step out of the shadows. In their hands, they held his hat, bandanna, and his belt. They tossed them down in front of them.  _

_ “You’re not Tron.” The deeper voice continued, pulling Beck’s attention back to the dark.  _

Breathe, Beck.

_ He narrowed his eyes. “Never said I was.”  _

_ “Who are you, then?” His visible captor asked, crossing their arms.  _

_ He glared at them. “Name’s Beck. Didn’t realize Clu recruited women.” _

_ “There’s a lot you don’t know,  _ boy. _ ” The voice from the shadows cut in. “Like the fact that we were going to hunt you to the ends of the earth for what you did.” _

_ “Y’all deserved it.” Beck spat with a glare.  _

_ “And you will deserve your fate for desecrating Clu’s glory.” The voice argued levelly. “You won’t get away with it.” _

_ “I already did.” _

_ “Doesn’t look like it to me.” The voice must have given some indication because the visible captor passed them by, turning her back to take guard. Beck twisted to watch her go, before the voice called him back. “Who are you?” _

_ He held his head high. “Beck. You want to know why I did what I did?” _

_ The voice didn’t respond, letting Beck launch into his explanation. Neither of his captors spoke until long after he finished. _

_ “I should have known you were drunk.” The guard said finally. When Beck glanced back to her, her back was still to him. “You still reek of it.”  _

_ “Drunk or not,” The voice continued. It rose as if standing. “You painted a dangerous target on your back. You do not want us as your enemy, boy.” _

_ “A little late for that,” Beck remarked, looking down. He has to get out of here. He can’t be taken back; they’ll kill him! _

_ His gaze snapped back up as footsteps approached. The voice stepped from the shadows, revealing his other captor. They were dressed in all black. A bandanna covered their face and a hat on their head. Oddly, only one eye was visible… _

_ “Do you know what they’re calling you back in Argon?” They asked, slowly approaching. They kicked the belt as they approached. Once close enough, their gloved hand gripped his chin, forcing his head up. “Your little stunt gave you a stunning likeness to Tron.” _

_ When Beck grinned at that, the captor threw his head down. He grunted at the pain as they walked away, back to him. “But that’s impossible. Tron’s dead.” _

_ “That’s what you all want us to think.” The captor had unknowingly kicked the belt closer. Now it was within reach. If he could stretch his foot… “You want us all to believe that he’s dead so we won’t fight back, that we’ll take your bullshit sitting down.” _

_ The captor didn’t reply right away. Beck gritted his teeth as his foot struggled to hook the belt. Almost there.... _

_ “You’re all too naive.” He froze, stiffening at the guard’s voice. He stole a glance back to see she still wasn’t looking at him. “You all think you know what’s best for you, but you have no idea what the world is like.” _

_ He exhaled deeply, and let his foot hook on the belt. “That’s what you all think, don’t you?” He asked as he pulled the belt close to him. Once his hand could reach his knife, he pulled it from its sheath. “You don’t know our world. We were doing just fine without you. Let them believe I’m Tron.” _

_ “And why’s that? Why do you want them to believe Tron’s alive?” _

_ “Well, he could be. And if he is, maybe they’ll think for themselves. Not sit still as y’all take everything from us.”  _

_ The knife cut through the ropes with surprising ease. He stretched his arm before slipping the remains off him.  _

_ “You think that will inspire a revolution?” The captor finally turned as Beck rose to his feet.  _

_ “I know it will.” He said darkly before lunging with a cry. _

_ The captor sidestepped his attack and he stumbled. “We won’t be intimidated!” He shouted, turning back to see the guard run to the captor’s assistance. He lunged again, the captor blocking each hit he threw. “I don’t care how strong or powerful your forces are!”  _

_ The captor ducked beneath his final wild swing. He straightened behind him, grabbing him by the neck. “You should.” He threw Beck over his shoulder, and he landed on the ground with a grunt, knife clattering to the ground.  _

_ “Your actions have consequences.” The guard said as she approached. She kicked the knife farther away and stood over him, reaching for more rope.  _

_ “So do yours!” Grunting, he kicked out, and she couldn’t help her cry as his foot met her midriff. She went down and he scrambled out of the way. Before he could get away, though, the captor grabbed him by the neck and slammed him back into the rock. Stars danced in front of his eyes.  _

_ “And nothing I say will stop you?” The captor asked.  _

_ Beck was panting and gasping for air, but after a moment managed. “I won’t stop fighting.” _

_ The captor threw him down. Beck choked on his air as the captor seemed to disappear. As he searched for him and the guard, he noticed his knife. He hurried to grab it before pushing himself to his feet. They were both gone… _

_ He was proven to be mistaken as the whip wrapped around his left wrist. He hurried to hide his knife as he was jerked towards the guard. The captor surged from the dark and pinned him against the wall. Before he could struggle, there was a familiar  _ click _ twice and he glanced up to the gun at his forehead, and then over to see the guard holding a second at his temple.  _

_ “Even if it means you’ll be killed right now?” The captor growled, finger on the trigger.  _

_ Beck took a deep breath. “If it means others will take up my cause.” He slipped the knife out and gave the captor a firm poke in the abdomen. “So be it.” _

_ “Step aside!” He shouted demandingly, gripping the knife tight. “Let me go.” _

_ There was steel in the captor’s visible eye as it narrowed, otherwise not moving. “No.” _

_ “Then this is the end of both of us.” Beck wasn’t sure he could stomach the thought of killing someone, but if it was his only way of escape, then damn it he must! Though he has no doubt there is no way out now, not with two guns at his head.  _

_ “You won’t hurt me.” Both Beck and the guard look to the captor at that to see something mysterious in their eyes. Now Beck narrows his eyes.  _

_ “What makes you so sure?”  _

_ The captor removed his gun, and after a moment, the guard followed. Beck glanced between both of them as his brow furrowed.  _

_ “Jig is up.” He said to the guard as he turned back to Beck, hand reaching for his bandanna. “You were right about one thing, Beck.”  _

_ The captor pulled down his mask. Beck’s jaw dropped and the knife fell from his grip. He glanced from one familiar face to the guard to find a second. No way… _

_ “I’m not dead,” Tron said, glancing to Yori before looking back to Beck.  _

_ Yori approached and put a hand on her husband’s shoulder. “ _ We’re _ not dead.” _

_ “No way…” He glanced between the sheriff and his strategist. “You’re both alive. You’re here to help us!” _

_ The two exchanged a look at that that Beck couldn’t understand.  _

_ “Actually...we need your help,” Tron admitted.  _

_ Beck’s brow furrowed at that. “What?” _

_ “From someone who’s committed-” _

_ “-And not afraid to fight-” Yori added.  _

_ “And we think  _ you  _ may be just what we’re looking for.” _

_ Beck wasn’t sure he knew where this was going as he glanced between the two of them. “...What are you looking for?”  _

_ The two shared that mysterious look again before Tron looked him dead in the eyes.  _

_ “The next Tron.”  _


End file.
